


Deserving

by Miri Cleo (miri_cleo)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amnesia, Drugged Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Manipulation, Marks, Morning After, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22513336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miri_cleo/pseuds/Miri%20Cleo
Summary: Even when he could barely say a word without slurring it, Tony Stark refused to shut up
Relationships: Obadiah Stane/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Deserving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LearnedFoot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearnedFoot/gifts).



Even when he could barely say a word without slurring it, Tony Stark refused to shut up. Obadiah had not quite anticipated that, but he should have. He watched Tony stumble to the bed, spilling the scotch he was still too young to legally drink.

"Wha the...fuuuuck is…" He didn't finish, falling onto the bed as the glass dropped to the carpet, spilling its contents. Luckily Obadiah had not wasted the good stuff on him.

He sat next to Tony, smiled down at him. The way the kid rolled over was comical, slow, and he looked up at Obadiah with those drooping, brown eyes that were so full of _trust_. He'd been building that since the death of Tony's parents by cleaning up Tony's messes, indulging him, being a shoulder to cry on. Now, he was going to reward himself.

"Heeey, Obie."

"Hey, kid." Obadiah slowly began to unbutton his shirt.

He took his time. He could afford it. Tony was finally, mostly, silent but still partially conscious. That was just where Obadiah wanted him. Once he was undressed, he worked on doing the same to Tony. This, he savored so he could take in each detail of Tony's limp body, commit it to memory. And the most delightful part of it was that Tony didn't resist. He couldn't even if he wanted to.

"You are," Obadiah said as he stepped back to admire, "such a little slut, Tony. What am I going to do with you?" He chuckled. Oh, he knew what he was going to do.

"Umm...mmm…"

"Shhh." He stepped back to the bed again, ran his fingers through Tony's hair before grabbing it to yank his head back. He shoved his cock into Tony's mouth without preamble, and the kid sputtered. He didn't have the coordination for this, really, but Obadiah fucked his face anyway. He grinned, relishing it. For the rest, he would not be as restrained.

* * *

He'd felt the headache even before sleep had really lifted. Tony didn't want to open his eyes. It pounded behind them relentlessly, and opening his eyes would only make it worse. But he realized that it wasn't just his head. He _hurt_. His whole body ached. His… Tony slowly opened his eyes. He was wrong, moving made it worse than opening his eyes possibly could. He groaned as he contorted his body, trying to see what the hell was making his ass feel like it had been ripped open and put back together again badly. There were bruises on his hips and thighs.

He slid out of bed and stood before falling, landing on his hands and knees. Rather than risking it again, he crawled towards the bathroom. There was something at the edge of his mind, but the night before was just blackness. He heard the bedroom door open and looked over his shoulder. Obadiah stood in silk pajama pants and a matching silk housecoat which hung open. He carried two cups of coffee.

"You're awake."

"O-" Tony swallowed. His throat felt like it was lined with glue. "Obie what…"

Obadiah set the cups aside and helped him stand, carefully walking him back to the bed. There was a look on his face--one Tony knew he'd seen before.

"Drink this." Obie put one of the coffee cups in his hands. "It'll make you feel better."

"What…" He started to shake his head before thinking better of it and just taking a sip of the bitter, black coffee. "What happened."

"Tony." Obie put an arm around him and pulled him close. "You don't remember?" He looked shocked, a little disappointed. Tony realized the look he couldn't identify earlier was satisfaction.

He tried to pull away, but Obie held him tight. "You did this. _You_?"

"Tony," he said gently, "you asked me to. You begged, wheedled. You know I'd never hurt you…"

Tony's mind felt heavy. He couldn't remember asking, _beggingsomething_ happening. But this seemed--how drunk had he been?

"You said you needed it, Tony--all of itl. You said you deserved it."

"Drug? Like…" This time he did shake his head. "Shit. Obie, I really don't…"

"Shh." Obie put his finger over Tony's lips. His touch was oddly gentle, and Tony finally sagged into him. "Know thyself. That's an admirable quality, kid. And you, you know yourself. You _know_ you need it. Everything you put them through…"

Silent tears rolled down Tony's cheeks. He'd put his mother through so much. He'd said awful things to his father--and thought even worse. And he'd never get to apologize. He'd never get to make it up to them.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to glassesofjustice for beta work!


End file.
